Chapter 8-The Past Can Haunt You

Disclaimer: I do not own House.

"Greg, did you hear me?"

Gregory House opened his eyes and looked over at his father standing with his arms folded glaring at his son.

"I said did you hear me or did God take away your hearing too?"

House, still feeling quite groggy, tried to move out of bed but found that he couldn't. He looked down to see his long left leg covered in a thick white cast. He reached out to touch it. It was smooth, a tableau Rosa, reveling no autographs from friends, meaning no visitors.

"How long have I been here?"

He asked gazing around the hospital room.

"Two days, "his mother said. "You were taken to one of the best hospitals in Italy after your got hit during the game." Greg looked around his room. There were no telltale signs of exactly what hospital he was in. It appeared like any other hospital with the standard tan walls flowering with beautiful paintings of grapes and foliage along with two single red chairs which to Greg looked as if they hadn't been used. For some reason that thought brought a small smile of comfort to his face.

Greg's father snorted, "I don't know what you look so damn happy about. They may say they're the best, but don't they all? Doctors always claim they don't screw up, but they do. Hopefully this one was competent enough to perform a simple procedure." John House looked at his son suddenly posing in his military fatigues.

"Good thing you're not going to be a doctor huh, Greg?"

Greg House glared at his father his blue eyes blazing with fury.

"I'm going to medical school in the States this fall, dad."

His father smirked. "Then make sure you don't screw up."

House's eyes fell from his father's look.

"I mean if they were to mess up on your leg now, then real damage could've been done. You might never be able to walk right again if that happened. Would you want that type of responsibility on your hands? I don't think you could handle it."

"I won't mess up." Greg swore.

John House continued to eye his son. "No one if infallible and everyone lies. Remember that Greg. One day you'll fuck up like the rest of them. When you do, don't come crawling back to me."

Blythe House took all of this in, "Boys, stop it please," her reasoning as a way to escape confrontation only made Greg angrier.

"Enough fooling around. Greg, honey, your father is just joking. We're going to let you get some sleep, OK?"

Greg nodded rubbing his cast absentmindedly.

"Did we win?" he whispered softly.

John grabbed his wife's arm as they were about to head out the door.

"They would've if you didn't screw it up."

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House, falling out of his nightmare, leapt up quite suddenly out of the hospital bed. Princeton, he thought, I 'm back at Princeton and that was just a horrible nightmare of a memory long ago. Chase was there ready to dash over in a heartbeat.

"You Ok?" he asked.

House's face was full of perspiration and his mind was still foggy was the effects of his nightmare.

House seemed to be having hard time breathing.

"Calm down," the Aussie said, "what's wrong?"

House tried to reach out to Chase, but Chase's first instinct told him that House was trying to push him away.

"Don't push me!" Chase shouted louder than intended. A few nurses straggled in to see if they could help.

House's breathing was becoming more ragged as he looked for the first time at the young man, imagining that he had as many demons to chase nightly as he did.

"I want to tell you…" House started but Chase interrupted.

"Why do you hate me so much?" he whispered directly into House's face.

House gasped, "I don't hate you." He closed his blue eyes. "I hate myself. You remind me of that from long ago…" He grabbed hold of Chase's arm the best that he could and looked him in the eyes. "Don't be afraid to take risks. Trust yourself."

House's eyes began to roll into the back of his head and Chase watched in horror as House went into cardiac arrest.

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Next up: The team decides to take a chance and treat what they think is wrong with House.